


That Which Binds Us (UNFINISHED)

by kylosleftfoot



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: AND ROMANTIC FIRE SCENES, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Morally Ambiguous Character, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Rescue Missions, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, This is new to me, but like in a fluffy way i guess, food and romance will happen a lot, honestly what am I doing, i just really like romantic dinner scenes, im probably changing the title too at some point lets be real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:35:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25533721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylosleftfoot/pseuds/kylosleftfoot
Summary: There’s a certain experience you can only have during the summer evenings on Orrin-12. When the lone sun starts to reach down towards the horizon. If you’re able to get close to a shoreline or a bay of some sort, you can see more clearly how the sea is set ablaze; as if you’d managed to lay gold over the waves.You loved your planet, and you loved your simple lifestyle. You just didn't expect one summer evening and a ship hurtling towards you to change your entire life, as well as your perspective on how you really wanted to spend it.// I'M IN THE PROCESS OF REWRITING THIS ENTIRE THING. I'm keeping this half-baked introduction up for now as a sort of masochistic way to keep me going, but be aware I'll be making an entirely new work instead of updating this one.
Relationships: Armitage Hux & Reader, Kylo Ren & Reader, Kylo Ren & You, Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You, Poe Dameron & Reader
Kudos: 6





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I seriously don't know what I'm doing. Let's get that clear. I am so so sorry for creating this but at this point, if Adam Driver isn't going to give us any content then I WILL. This matter has been expressly taken into my own hands (which was a bad idea but here we are.)  
> I haven't really written since about 2016 so let me know if anything could be changed, chopped, modified, etc!
> 
> Also, this story is going to evolve as it goes along but my intention is to create a slow burn romance primarily between kylo ren and the reader. One that you can really sink your teeth into -because 40 chapter ao3 fics are my absolute favourite- so don't expect everything to happen at once. Also also, I'll probably update this about once a week (i really have nothing else to do at this point) so slap my wrists if i forget.

There’s a certain experience you can only have during the summer evenings on Orrin-12. When the lone sun starts to reach down towards the horizon, the sky becomes cast in an iridescent pink hue, the tips of each cloud being dipped in a glowing froth of reflected colour. If you’re able to get close to a shoreline or a bay of some sort, you can see more clearly how the white sands become pearly, and the sea is set ablaze; as if somehow you’d managed to lay a sheet of gold over the slowly drifting afternoon waves.

It’s an experience many would deem otherworldly, as these summer nights seem to slow down the planet around you and simply exist for you to _experience them_.

When you walk across the rippling rockpools turned gold dust, It’s almost like you’re floating on the water. The only sound is a gentle swirl of tide accompanied by some native seabird calls as they glide towards their nests.

This is your home. It’s just for you.

It’s always small things about the planet you inhabit that make you feel warm and comforted. Like how in the early autumn the mosses and native trees always ripened into such a welcoming golden tone. Or how sometimes, as you worked in the fields surrounding your lone hut, you’d spot the vulpic pups hopping through your harvests and playing with each other. It was always the small things.

You looked up at the horizon again. The sun was just starting to sink lower now, which drenched everything in a deeper, redder hue. The first glimpses of stars also seemed to be glittering idly by now. _Odd_ , you thought. There was a specific star that seemed to almost be… brighter than the others. But that was preposterous. Your view was extraordinary yet like your routine, it never changed. 

You peered in closer, trying to discern the star. Not only was it definitely getting brighter, but also larger. The star seemed to keep growing in brightness actually, and before you knew it the stars wings appeared, and that’s when you came to the terrifying realisation that _this wasn’t a star_.

“Holy shit… Holy _shit_!” You began running for your life, sprinting across the beach like everything depended on it. And as your head was turned forwards in your desperate attempt to escape the line of this ships descent and locate a quick shelter, you heard a high pitched whistle.  
Shocked, you whipped your head around just in time to see the massive ship crash into your pearly sands, slice the horizon in half, and change your experiences of the summers of Orrin-12 forever.


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You take a chance, discover a hulking concrete block of a man, and get existential while pouring a cup of water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hohoh! What was that about me only posting once a week? Who was the KLF that said those words? I don't know her. She's dead to me. You're now presented with the KLF who updates the day after the first chapter! At 1:40 am! After deciding that maybe showing the world your first fanfiction in 4 years and not introducing the guy everyone _wants_ to see is maybe a bad idea.  
> Anyway, enjoy. I liked writing this, but I'm not sure why!
> 
> PPS: Unrelated but also kind of related to my last chapters notes but did anyone else see the leaked adam driver and Burberry ad campaign pics from like 100 meters away? Whoa mama, those 16 pixels were worth the wait.

The sky was black now, but your beach was red. You stared at the wreckage, breathing heavily and filled with adrenaline.

Then you started running towards it.

Your instincts were screaming at you that.. perhaps..  _ people- what if there are people in there _ ? Your feet flew through the air and kicked sand up as you retread ground and plunged towards the smouldering wreckage.

You peered through and saw a shadowy human shape beneath a smouldering piece of one of the ship’s thrusters.  _ Success! _

Scrabbling into the less-aflame area, you grabbed a long metal pole from the flung debris and thrust it underneath the hulking wreckage. Just as soon as you’d managed to pry the piece up enough to free the person, you pushed forwards and grabbed their protruding arms, tearing him out from under harm’s way.  _ That could have ended much worse than it did _ , you thought.

Hoisting the (rather bulky) figures cloaked right arm over your shoulder, you huffed your way back to the cabin, the flames of the ship illuminating the metal mask on the mysterious strangers face while you trod ground. The mask Itself was emitting a strange crackling sound. If you weren’t currently trying to save their life, you’d have had a better peek at the masks intricacies just out of pure curiosity.

Once you reached the door to your hut, you practically flung yourself in and shoved the stranger onto a nearby recliner, where they landed with a rustle of fabric. You winced and whispered a meek “sorry..” with the only response to your voice being the same crackling from the mask as before. That didn’t sound  _ healthy _ , not by a long shot.

You rushed to your refresher from across your living area and flung open the door. Grabbing your first-aid crate from its residual spot, you rushed back and looked the stranger over from a leaning position to assess the damage.

They were wearing some sort of… cowl or hood? Whatever it  _ was _ , you made quick work of removing it, folding the fabric to use as an armchair softener for the stranger. You then turned your attention to their abdomen, which was covered in a basketweave stitch fabric. From one look at the wet glistening sheen upon it, you could tell it was drenched in blood. Your hands trembled slightly as you used a pair of scissors from the crate to tear open the material.  _ Oh god- Jesus, man!  _

There were two relatively large wounds across his chest, one of which looked to be a  _ blaster wound  _ going through his lower abdomen and the other which looked like some sort of long gash wound made by a weapon which you struggled to identify. The first cotton bud you’d dabbed across his chest became useless pretty much immediately.

_ There’s So much blood! I mean at least I know this is a human now, judging by the whole skin thing and red blood and hands but-  _ You snapped yourself out of your thoughts. Now was not the time to derail and panic!

You got to work.

By the time you were done patching up the man's wounds from his neck-down, the stranger’s abdomen, legs and left palm were sterilised, stitched up and wrapped with gauze. The only thing left now was the mask.

You were hesitant about removing the mask for multiple reasons, ranging from  _ I wouldn’t want to disturb a neck injury  _ all the way to  _ What if he’s dead? Or Not even human after all? _

In the end decided it was, in fact, necessary- It seemed as though some ash and sand from the crash were the cause of the masks crackling (probably due to some kind of voice modulator or filter from your guess) and it would do neither of you good for this person to inhale part of your beach and potentially choke. And so, with a hesitant fumble for the locks, you unlatched the helmet with a hiss.

The face underneath shocked you to your core. He was definitely… human.

With black locks fanning your armrest, framing a defined yet soft face. Long black eyelashes rested over thick eye bags and skin covered in a mixture of soot and spots. Honestly, you were mesmerised.

_ Perhaps it’s because I haven’t seen a man in… I’m not sure how long.  _ You hesitated. Was that the true reason? Unfamiliarity shock? Nobody could  _ hear _ your thoughts, and admitting someones external beauty was not necessarily something to be ashamed about. It just seemed so ... _ different _ . This unnamed man seemed so unique compared to others you’d seen before. He -without even speaking a word or opening his eyes- seemed to emit such a strong, powerful aura. This was someone important, and he fascinated you.

From where you were standing over him you were able to see just how tired he looked. Deep-set exhaustion marred him, and you had the feeling the damage to his outfit (before your contributions) wasn’t just from the ship that had crashed. Interesting.

You reached a hand over unconsciously to brush away a stray hair from the man’s cheek when it was suddenly crushed in a vice grip by the man’s injured grasp. He surged forwards from where he was sitting and your heads slammed together.

“Ow! Kriff, man!” You hissed and tried to tug your hand away but his grip just became tighter.

“Listen, sir.” you started, and looked up into his eyes “I’m just trying to help yo-”

Your breath stuttered in your throat.

This mans eyes were hollow. They were blown wide with fear, looking everywhere and nowhere at once. They were weary but so  _ vibrant _ with feelings that you could practically see into his soul. This was the expression of someone scared for their life. You understood perfectly. 

You stared back for a second.  _ What have you seen? _

He opened his mouth to say something but clenched his eyes shut as a cloud of soot poofed out from his mouth and he doubled over, choking on air. You yanked your hand away again, this time with more urgency, and that’s when he looked at you.

You raised your free arm as if you were reassuring a startled animal. 

“Please, sir.” You began. “I’m trying to get you water.”

nothing. The man had briefly paused his coughing fit, but couldn’t seem to process your words.

“Please, man. You’re gonna get soot in your lungs if I don’t get you something! Let me help you.” Then, as if you’d called him back from his strange reverie, his eyes seemed to snap directly onto you, not just  _ through  _ you, and his hand became limp.

You brought your hand to your chest with a sigh of relief and made to move away.

“Thank you, sir. Stay here. Don’t move!” you bustled away from him and speed-walked into your kitchenette. As you leaned over your sink, filling a cup with some water, your thoughts began to wander back to that bizarre chain of events. 

_ Why did he look like he was someplace else?  _ And more importantly,  _ why’d he let go? _ You supposed it was just because of him regaining more consciousness and becoming aware of your request, but you weren’t sure.

You made your way back to your main living area but stopped in the doorway and hissed out air from between your teeth in frustration. The man was tangled in his own clothes, passed out stomach-up; half-on and half-off your poor recliner. It was obvious your words of warning flew directly over his head. 

Once you’d hoisted the man back up -being careful to avoid aggravating his wounds- you nudged him awake with a gentle two-fingered tap to his hair and he, more drowsily this time, seemed to come to himself for a brief moment. 

You almost handed him the glass but slapped yourself mentally for even trying.  _ He’s just been in a crash, you idiot! Of course he’s not going to be able to pick things up, let alone keep them in his hands! _ Heeding your own words, you raised the glass to the man’s lips, which parted with concerningly little effort. You both sat (and lay) in silence as he took small sips of the water, and once he looked about ready to pass out again you took the glass from his lips and placed it on the stubby wooden coffee table beside your recliner. 

You looked at him. He was barely hanging onto consciousness at this point, and you couldn’t blame him. If it were you, you honestly would’ve been out cold at this point. It was a miracle you’d even gotten the man to drink anything!

There was one question burning st the back of your mind that you needed answers to, however, and you blurted it out from where you were kneeling beside him before he could fully start his descent back into sleep. 

“I- uh-” You gulped. “What’s your name, sir?”

The man’s head swayed side to side where his cowl fabric supported it, and as the silence dragged on you were starting to think he’d not heard you at all. 

You were about to repeat the question before you caught the briefest of shallow whispers of air come from his lips.

“B- B.....n”. Your brows drew together at the barely intelligible answer as the man spluttered weakly from where he lay. “Ben?” You clarified.

His eyes glittered in recognition. “Ben.”

Hm. And now you knew. __

_ Ben. _

_ What an ordinary name for such a mysterious individual. _

Before you could ask for his last name, or any clarification at all really, or maybe even why he’d decided  _ your home planet looked cosy enough to crash into _ , he was back to being passed out on your recliner- those long lashes hiding the answers you were yearning to hear.


	3. chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man of the hour finally snaps out of his recovery-delirium, and your coffee table absolutely hates you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've probably made some mistakes here, but whew! Both chapter 1 and chapter 2 me were wrong about my consistency. I am, as usual, all over the place. 
> 
> I'd like to give a shoutout to Grammarly in this note! It really told me that the tone of this entire chapter was _enraged_. It's a vibe so I'll agree with it either way.

Your new stranger was… Peculiar. To say the least. You’d managed to move him from your centralised living room to your (cosy in size) bedroom and though the edges of Ben’s feet dangled slightly on your bed, he didn’t seem bothered by this in the moments where he was half awake.   
  


You’d attempted to wrangle more information about  _ anything _ , but the most you’d gotten out of him in his part-sleep status was a few groans of pain and mumblings about something or another. You swore you caught the tail end of “scavenger” in there, but you weren’t sure. At least he seemed to be improving from how you’d found him.

It was three days before Ben became aware of his surroundings. It was late at night and you were in your kitchenette, packing away a pot of planet-native hog stew you’d been told was good for patient recovery when you heard a dull ‘thud’ followed by a booming crash come from your room.

Your hand hesitated before you shoved the prepared stew to the side and yanked yourself out to check on ben.

  
  


“Ben? Is that you?” You were close to the door now, still wary of what could have been the results of the noise, when-

_ SLAM! _

The door to your bedroom flung open and a stumbling mass of a person barreled towards you.

“Get off me!” You squirmed under Ben’s grasp. Most of his weight was leaning on you and he seemed half out of it- strands of dark hair clung to his face as he stumbled forward further into the centre of your living room. Wait-

You gripped his shoulders to stop his swaying and his face swayed to your eye line.

“You can’t leave right now. It’s not safe for you to even be walking around!!” 

Again, you were interrupted, this time because he’d shoved you away and, tripping over your own feet, your head thudded against your coffee table.

Your vision swam, and your mind was tumbling as you shakily lifted yourself to your knees and looked up at Ben with a confused scowl on your face.

He was panting from exertion and still swaying, having to lean nearby on your couch for support. His eyebrows furrowed in an unrecognisable expression.

“Who are you? Where is my Ship?”

You blinked and shakily rose to your feet. Your head was pounding but you couldn’t care when you’d finally gotten your guest (refugee? Possible murderer?) to speak! Even if his (deep warm and generally appealing to your concussed self) speech was the follow-up to you being slammed against your coffee table.

“Uhh..” You started but paused. Where did you even begin? Deciding to leave out the finer details, you started:

“Your ship crashed into the beach nearby. You’re in my house-- and you need to get back to bed.” Your fingers ran over the back of your head and you winced. You’d need to ice that after you were done.

A beat. And then,

“No”. Ben’s eyes were cautious. 

“Hm.” This wasn’t going to go well if you didn’t convince him that you had good intentions, so you tried again.

“Look, man, do you really think I’m a threat to you? You’re taller than all of my doorframes and my medical scissors would probably dent if I threw them at you.” you flailed your arms as you spoke to emphasise your lack of fighting muscle.

“Medical scissors?”

“Yes! I mean they’re a bit worse for wear at the moment, but they did a good job at the moment.” As if just realising your point, ben glanced down and flushed a deep red.

“Where... My clothes?”

Well, now that he’d mentioned it, you couldn’t help but stare at his exposed chest. You looked away just as his eyes flew to yours as if he knew what you’d been doing and coughed into your palm awkwardly.

“Yeah- sorry about that. I.. we’re different sizes, you know? A-and you had a fever on the first few days of recovery- I’m sure I can sew you something though, I just hadn’t really thought about it.”   
This was getting awkward. It seemed that your new housemate was just as bad at conversation as you.

“I don’t mean any harm though, Ben. Swear.” the hulking man's eyes squinted.

“Why did you call me that?” what kind of question was that?

“You asked me to.”

“when?” 

You scoffed. “On the night I dragged you out of the flaming wreck that was your  _ ship _ and brought you back here?”

Ben stumbled on his words at that.

“My ship! You- I…” Ben leaned dangerously forward and stumbled in an attempt to locate the door to your house. With little success, of course, because you grabbed bens arms and gently steered him back into your bedroom. 

“Not right now. You’re too weak to even stand up! You need to sleep!” 

“What if you’re a spy, sent out to k- to kill me?” He slurred. Your face scrunched up in the strongest ' _ are you kriffing kidding me right now?' _ Expression you could muster.

It seemed as though ben was either resigned to his possible fate or just too tired to argue as after looking at your  _ less than pleased  _ expression, he let his feet limp slowly backwards before they hit the foot of your bed frame.

He cautiously inched backwards on your bed, still facing you, until he reached the numerous pillows around the top of your mattress.

You and bens gaze warningly linked up for a beat too long, and you coughed into your palm again.

“I’m gonna.. Go now-”

“Go where?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed at ben.

“The couch! Tell me if you need water or you’re dying and I’ll come back to rescue you again” and then you were off, turning back towards the door but not without pausing by the doorframe for a moment.

You peered back behind your shoulder. Ben was still staring at you, seconds from passing out. 

“When you get better I’ll take you to your ship”.

He hummed.

His face was in that unrecognisable expression yet again. That seemed to be all the affirmation you were going to get.

As you lay on your sofa, neck awkwardly poised on the armrest to avoid your bruise (this is where ben had been, your mind unhelpfully supplied), your thoughts wandered to the man in your room, as they constantly had ever since you’d rescued him. 

You and him... 

You were obviously both not on the best grounds at the moment, but at least he hadn’t tried to kill you yet. That was always good.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm in the process of completely rewriting this with an actual plan! Yay for me!


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